Némein
by Miss Sas
Summary: Orphaned by the Night World. She played their game to seek revenge.
1. Prologue

Book One: Némein

('_to give what is due')_

* * *

Prologue:

"Why don't you just do it?" The woman asked, her voice rasping but her tone hollow: bored. Her own blood was already bright on her lips, frothing from her throat from an internal injury. Her silver eyes were luminous as she stared up at the young slender mortal woman who held a knife poised at her throat.

"Are you so eager to die, Luna Morrell?" The young woman asked from between clenched teeth.

Luna turned her face away.

The young woman was straddling her, they were at the end of their fight now; she held the blade of silver and wood above her heart, her muscles tensing with her grip, ready to strike with deadly force.

Luna remained with her face turned to one side, her gaze was remote as if she had disappeared into her own mind and it was a cold vision. Her body was limp beneath her assailant's, she would not resist when she would cleave her heart in two.

"I want to know why." The young woman said tremulously. "Why did you kill my parents? Why did you let me live?"

A spark of light jumped through Luna's silver gaze like lightning. Life. She reached up slowly to remove her glove and reached up to press her cold palm against her cheek and the furrow of scar tissue that decorated it. The woman hesitated, jerking back for an instant but she allowed her to touch her and Lunas's touch was like fire against her skin and she was transported into her memories.

She was the same. No. Not altogether the same. Luna was mortal then, _she could feel the quivering thread of panic running through Luna just as her body, muscles and bone readied for the kill. Luna's heart was thundering, her breath heavy with excitement._

"_You take the heart as a warning to the rest." A man's voice ricocheted about her skull; the voice was cold, deadpan as if he weren't talking about murder._

She felt as Luna did_ the hard and warmth and wetness of her clawed hand puncturing the chest, scarping against bone, fingers clamping around the beating heart, warm meaty walls encompassed her fist and then pulling, the resistance because the heart was connected, still trying to beat, a body still trying to live. _

_She felt the trembling of her hand, the exhilaration of violence and disgust too. Yes there was disgust and icy white regret that hitched her breath._

_The second time was harder, but shock had set in creating a numbness that made the physical act easier and she watched as if outside of her own being as she punctured through the woman's chest, soft flesh parting, the sound of ripping loud in her own ears and the sensation of that beating heart, the hard bone, the warm wet insides._

_A part of Luna died that night, the sentimental childish part that thought there was someone to protect her from this. There was nothing but her claw fisted around the still beating heart of a woman. A heart that had animated a mother, a wife, a daughter, a sister…a traitor._

_She stared at the organ, the colours bright, the meat succulent; she could not deny the hunger moving through her, the way it provoked her sharp teeth to grow, the curves of her ears to sharpen, just the subtle changes. But self-control, the military training would prevent her from fulfilling the beastly desires that reared from within._

"_And the child?" The voice again._

_Dread. A cold sweat that gathered at the base of her spine, made the heat of the organ in her hands drain to ice. "She's just a kid." She said, a dulcet voice soft and vague and hollow even to her own ears._

"_She will grow into a woman and that woman will carry the image of your face in his head and vengeance will be written in her heart. It would be kinder to end her life now." The feeling of a hand on her shoulder, kneading the rock hard tension there. "Return her to his parents in the after world."_

_She didn't believe in beyond this world, she believed in flesh, in blood and the here and now._

_The little girl was splotchy red and crying and so vulnerable it wasn't fair. Life wasn't fair. A memory within a memory of being hit so hard the impact had crushed her cheek, her jaw, her nose. "Don't cry, Madelyn." Luna said gently, gently._

_The girls eyes were grey and lavender, bright with tears; her mouth was a trembling line. She was so small. So delicate, it hardly seemed fair._

"_Do it." The man's voice. "Do it and be quick. I'll be outside."_

_She knelt eye to eye with the child. Soft round limbs. She put her bloodied hand on Madelyn's chest trying to convince herself it was flesh, just flesh. How it trembled beneath her claw, its small breaths stuttering between sobs. She touched her round cheek and felt a shock run up her arm, this girl had been precious to her mother and father, just a girl, she had no choice in this._

"_Don't cry." Luna said again. She reached for the girl's face, gentle, her features blank. _Madelyn could almost remember the sight of Luna when she was that child trying desperately not to try cry, remembered thinking if she could stop crying that Luna would stop too.

_Luna stared down at her own hand and watched as her clawed fingers turned more animal becoming longer, sharper, a shade darker. She took hold of the girl by the chin, pinching her skin, feeling her tremble, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her fear._

_She dug her sharp animal nails into the girl's cheek, tearing her flesh and drawing blood, _he remembered how it had hurt._ She spread the girl's blood across her cheeks and mouth as if painting her face for war and all the while she tried to block the child's screams, pitiful, heart wrenching noises. The girl passed out and Luna left his body._

"_Is it done?" The man asked casually as if the task was mundane._

"_Yes." She said the lie was a stone in her heart._

It still sat heavy in the silt of her consciousness even now. She removed her hand from the rippled scars of the girls face, her eyes locked to hers, lavender and grey glossy with un-fallen tears. Madelyn was filled with the sensation of Luna's memory as if it were her hands that had torn out hearts and her nails the ones that had forged the scars she had borne since that day.

"Why?" Madelyn asked.

"I do what I'm told." She said, infuriatingly calm there was no more hint of pain on her face.

"But you let me live."

Luna turned her face away. Whatever channel had opened up between them had closed as her expression turned distant and cold.

"You're a monster." Madelyn said softly.

Luna didn't respond, not a whisper to defend herself and why would she need to? It was true, it was everything she had ever wanted to be: a cold, unfeeling monster.

* * *

Miss S 10/01/2014


	2. Chapter One

Chapter One:

_Prisms of light fell upon Madelyn Ingram's face as the first rays of sunlight shone through the window pane. Her eyes were fixed, eerie in their intensity. "I want you to tell me." She whispered from between clenched teeth._

"_And is there any reason why I should?" Luna Morrell asked calmly, reasonably almost._

"_Wouldn't you want someone to know before you died?" She asked, appalled._

_Luna seemed to stare through her rather than at her and Madelyn found it unnerving as the woman slowly shook her head, saying no in her attitude but with a gentle sight she began her tale and it started twenty seven years ago… _

27 Year Ago

"Go and hide now." Tisiphone Drache whispered in her daughter's ear, a puff of sweet perfume as he long hair brushed her daughter's cheek, her shoulder, her arm.

The four year old ran toward the cupboard beneath the stair case, closing the door behind her. There was already a blanket and pillow in the cramped space, and a small electric lamp offering a small orange warmth in the darkness.

She listened to her mother's skirt slither across the wooden floors, the polite knock on the front door. "Come in." Her sweet sweet voice. Little Luna had always loved her mother's voice, and sometimes she would sing her to sleep, the songs of her ancestors in a language that meant nothing and everything to her. "_Tinúviel elvanui, Elleth alfirin edhelhael_..."

"I can't stay long." The man's voice was clipped and cold.

"I might persuade you." Tisiphone purred.

Their footsteps creaked through the house, she could smell them as they passed by the cupboard, her mother all honeyed perfume and the man who smelt like expensive aftershave and the faint tang of human blood. To her young mind Luna didn't know what they did, she only heard the deep rumble of laughter, the sighs of pleasure and the smell.

When the man left her mother would in time come to the closet and her perfume would waft toward her and she would know to wake and go to her mother's arms. "Let's go to bed, my love." She would burrow her head into the space between her mother's neck and shoulder where the scent was strongest and close her eyes to sleep.

Luna knew only safety, only love, only the semi-darkness of the cupboard and warmth of her mother's arms.

Every time the man came to visit she would go to the cupboard and be quiet. _As quiet as a mouse_. Her mother would move in her long dresses and skirts, the fabric soft and slithering across the wooden floors. The man would speak in his brusque way but thereafter tender noises would be heard from the other room, sounds muffled by the walls, by the blanket Luna wrapped around herself.

Until one night there was no polite knock on the door but the door was kicked in. Luna was torn from the thin veil of sleep and shivered in the wrap of her blanket as people stomped into the house. "Take the Drache bitch." A woman hissed.

She heard her mother's voice. "What are you doing, Evelyn?"

"Royle is a Lord of the Night, you have corrupted him, you have made his House weak; for this you must be punished." The woman's voice, harsh, so different from her mother's, it dripped venom. "You are a seductress. A whore. A vile creature."

"Where is Royle? Let him come and say these things to me and not hide behind his crony."

"You have ignored all of our warnings."

"Where is Royle?"

"By sanction of the Vampire Court I'm putting an end to this madness-"

"Where is Royle?"

"He's where he belongs." Evelyn Halisaret said with a pause between words. "And you will go to where you belong."

"No." Her mother's voice erupted in a scream.

Luna had been holding her breath, listening to them talk, not comprehending anything but her mother's scream and then silence.

The cupboard door opened and all she saw were the starlit eyes of a vampire, his white pale hand reaching for her, clamped around her ankle and the icy touch chilled her to the bone. She was dragged and she fought, kicking and screaming until the vampire held her in hiss comfortless arms.

He was as white and smooth as marble and incredibly beautiful; his peridot eyes were bright as if lit from behind by the sun. "Halisaret, I've got a child."

He carried her into the room where her mother was and Luna's eyes were assaulted with red, the deep dark rich blood of death and the bright red shades of a shallow wound. The scent of it was like a fist rammed up her nostrils and she clung to the vampire, her small hands fisting in his jacket, pressing her face against his cheek and pressing her lids tight together to try and hide from the sight.

"Whose child is this?" Evelyn Halisaret was a petite, slender creature with ivory skin and cropped dark hair. A compact, and efficient woman, she was stained with the blood of her victim. Tisiphone Drache could not speak, her chest barely rose and fell with the last breaths she would ever take and then nothing. Silence. Stillness. The diminutive vampire kicked the corpse. "Whose child is this?" She demanded of it but it would not answer. It could not.

"What should we do with her?" The man asked, his voice vibrating through Luna's small body.

"Get rid of her, Lambert." Evelyn Halisaret said coldly.

"She's a child." He said, appalled. Luna felt his arms go tighter around her and found comfort as only a child could. "She has committed no crime."

"Then let her go I don't care."

He moved away, he was no longer grasping onto her but she was clinging to him, still unable to open her eyes riddled with fear and confusion. "Where are we going?" She whispered fearfully into his ear.

He didn't respond but he extended a tendril of psychic power that put her into a deep and unnatural sleep.

* * *

Miss S


	3. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

* * *

"_Isn't that how all tales of woe begin? With a love story?" Luna asked with a mocking smile. _

_Madelyn looked haunted, she never expected to feel a sliver of sympathy for the woman who had taken her childhood from her but it was there, quicksilver flash in the pit of her hatred and she could not deny it now._

"_What happened then? Where did he take you?"_

"_A home for abandoned children." She said with no trace of emotion. "I was there six years in all and every year was hell."_

* * *

21 Years Ago

"Little Luna?" Little Luna?" Someone called her out with a sing song voice, a voice she had come to dread. "I'm going to kill you for squealing you pig freak."

"Luna. Luna. Luna ." A chorus of cruelty; she had come to hate the syllables of her own name.

"Where are you?" The song gave way to frustration. "Where are you, Luna Morrell?"

Luna stared down at the horde of boys who were hunting her in the tangle of garden not thinking to look up into the branches of the Cypress Evergreen where she had braced herself between two thick branches waiting for them to pass.

Luna had just celebrated her tenth birthday at the Sentinel Gardens Orphanage and she had spent the day hiding in the trees.

"Where are you?" The largest boy grunted under his breath.

"There." A small oval face had been looking upward and now pointed a gloved hand toward the branches where she sat. "Found you."

They chanted and mocked her and all the while she watched, wondering how long she could hide between the branches, how long would it take for them to tire of waiting and disperse. A long time it seemed.

Twilight descended bringing with it the scent of rain and the cold wind rustled through the branches and she began to shiver, not altogether from the cold. There seemed no point trying to evade the inevitable, if it would not be now it would be later and if it were later it might be worse.

She jumped down and landed gracefully on both feet, the boys couldn't help but gasp, their eyes moving toward the high branches she had jumped from. He drop would have hurt any one of them but not Luna.

The largest of the gathered raised an imperious finger and simply declared. "Get her."

She turned and ran, heading toward the warmth emitting from the house, thinking vaguely that there would be refuge in the warmth.

She could outrun them, she always could but again the same dragging feeling of why bother for it was not now it would be later and so she stopped. They seized her by the arms and dragged her toward their leader, the large, near adult sized thirteen year old, Tommy.

He didn't need to find an excuse to do what he did, he struck her hard, a flint rock in his palm, the rock scraping skin from her forehead. It was just a scratch but it bled.

"That's what you get-" He began in menacing tones.

"What is going on here?" Interrupted the boys formed a wall of flesh between Luna and the intruder and it was not long before the porcine woman appeared placing chubby hands on her flaring hips and glaring over the boys head at Luna. "Morrell what did you do?"

"She was calling us names, Miss Rimmel."

"Come here you horrid child." The boys scattered as she lurched forward and grasped Luna's collar pulling off of her feet until the girl collided into her soft, warm body with a grunt.

She was being pulled inside, her eyes meeting Tommy's over the woman's shoulder and his eyes glinted with the promise of the pain to come later.

Miss Nadine Rimmel was heavy and always angry, Luna didn't have a kind memory about her. Rimmel had been the first woman she had seen when she had first come to Sentinal Gardens, all false warmth and extravagant displays affection.

As the doors closed and she was left to the orphanage's care things changed.

Luna was different from the other children, she knew it immediately and had enough instinct to hide those differences as best she could. She stayed as far from the other kids but they soon started to resent her distance, her silence, her secrecy.

Rimmell pushed her into the drawing room and she stumbled, startled to find a man sitting at the dining table. He was elegant, well dressed, his features expressionless except for his peridot eyes gleaming with intellect and soft amusement.

"Luna Morrell?"

She stared at him petulantly.

"You are Luna Morrell?"

She turned her face away from him, her insides were quaking with fear because she was not used to strangers, especially not well dressed and well-spoken adults. She thought he was a social worker, or a psychologist they came round every once in a while to probe the children with questions. _How are you feeling?_

"Please take a seat; I would like to speak to you."

She did that at least, seating herself at the far end of the table, staring down at the wooden grain, eyes following the arcs and swirls of the lacquered maple.

"Luna?" His voice was soft, gentle, coaxing and she resented it. _Luna?_ The sound of his voice materialised in his mind and she hitched a breath, her eyes darting upward and she was snared by his intense acid-bright green gaze.

He stared at her for some time, studying her features and she could feel the slick mental tendrils of his psychic power touch her mind, feather light and gentle, invisible fingertips patiently probed her psyche. She gritted her teeth and thought of vast black blankness and his exploring ceased.

"Do you remember my face?"

She glanced up at him, jarred by the patient look in his face; he was a very good looking young man: immaculately groomed, dark blond hair cropped short to his head, long golden brown lashes framing his unusual crystal sharp eyes and a luscious mouth.

He wore a grey suit that was tailored to fit his broad shoulders and narrow waist, his hands were elegant, slender long fingers and oval fingernails carefully groomed. Magic poured off of him in waves, an unearthly mesmeric quality that enhanced his beauty like a trap or a trick.

She shook her head, no.

"Do you know my name?"

She shook her head, no.

"Do you know why I am here?"

She shook her head, no.

"That's a nasty scratch you have there." He said lifting a finger to point at her head. Suddenly self-conscious she covered the wound on her head with her hand and began to glare at the stranger hating his gentle voice.

"My name is Gerard Lambert and I'm here to offer you an opportunity."

She glanced out of the window and saw the boys smirking and pulling faces. He turned his head to follow her stare and saw the row of red faced boys making fun, one glared at her with an eerie intensity.

"An opportunity to defend yourself…" He said and she turned to him, her hand falling from her head, her lips parting. She was interested now. "…and to serve the People."

"I have no people." She murmured; her voice hoarse from lack of use.

His lips turned upward in the smallest of smiles. "You are of the Night, Luna Morrell, we are all your People."

She glared up at him with her lips pursed peevishly, eyes narrowed to slim lines of suspicion.

"I am offering you a chance to be a Council sanctioned Agent of the Night"

"What does that mean?"

"You will train in the art of defence, soldiering, stealth, guile, infiltration, battle strategy; everything to equip you to serve and enforce the laws."

"What if I don't want to?" She asked her head cocking to one side.

"What else will you do with your life?"

It sounded terrifying and exhilarating, to train in the art of defence…battle…she glanced quickly to the faces beyond the windowpane. Purpose filled her as water would fill a cup. "What would I get in return?" She asked slowly.

Gerard Lambert was startled, he spread those elegant hands and his shoulder drew together in a shrug. "What would you like?"

* * *

_She stopped speaking, silence filled the space between them but Madelyn was hanging on her words anticipating her answer and finding nothing. "What did you ask for?" She prompted._

"_Nothing." Luna said her eyes sliding away from the girls, moving over the walls, the wall clock with its pendulum swinging._

"_But you agreed to go with him, didn't you?"_

_Her eyes flicked back to Madelyn. "Yes."_

* * *

Miss S


	4. Chapter Three

Chapter Three:

* * *

18 Years Ago

Gerard Lambert stood in the slim corridor of the training facility, pondering the warmth of bodies occupying the cells along the way, the quicksilver flash of their psyche played upon his mind but one was different from the others, icy and unobtainable.

"How is she doing?" He asked turning to Master Gryfalcon.

His expressive eyebrows drew together as he spoke forming a line of bushy grey-white hair. "Her agility and reflexes are advanced for her cohort. She's doing very well considering."

"Considering what?"

"The other recruits describe her as…cold."

His lips quirked in an almost smile remembering the petulant 10 year old he had met in Sentinel Gardens. "Will she graduate to the next stage?"

"I'm certain of it."

Gerard nodded.

"Don't be so pleased, Lambert." Gryfalcon murmured. "She may fail at the next hurdle."

He left Gryfalcon and entered one of the small rooms, the buzz of the halogen was there to greet him and the petite figure sat ram rod straight behind the desk.

She glanced up for a moment no expression flickered on her face or in her eyes as if she had been expecting him. "How are you, Luna?" He asked. Her eyes were focused on a fixed point in front of her once more and she made no effort to respond.

He took the seat opposite her and her eyes met his, he was startled by the lack of emotion, no suspicion, fear, hatred nor even curiosity. Just blank pools of gold-green eyes encircled within a dark green ring.

"I want to see him." She said abruptly.

"See who?" He asked, one brow arching

She blinked. "The one who gave me this…opportunity."

"Not yet." He replied and his eyes took on the eerie sheen of the predator. Her coldness provoked something in him, a wariness crept over him, a thin and undeniable trickle of fear.

"Then when?"

"When you've graduated the training programme."

"That could take another four years." She said dangerously close to whining if it weren't for her tone, cool, precise empty of emotion.

"Yes." He conceded.

She leant forward in her chair. "You will give me what I ask for, won't you?" She asked in a near whisper.

"You will be given whatever is within your benefactor's power to grant, I've had his oath on this." He said and slowly began to reach out with his psyche to touch hers, curious to know what she held in her heart behind the cold blankness of her stare but found only steel hard walls instead.

"They're training us to use psychic shields." She explained and he saw the smallest crease at the corner of her mouth that almost made her lips form the beginnings of a smile. "Do you think steel is best?"

"You're a credit to your instructor, Luna." He said.

She sat back in her chair, her stare going back to that point, the blankness and it was the end of the conversation for her. Gerard knew when to stop pushing, he felt wholly unsatisfied and out of control, not understanding how a thirteen year old girl could have made him feel this way.

He stood, his chair scraping, staring down at her dark head. "Goodbye, Luna."

* * *

Miss S


	5. Chapter Four

Chapter Four:

* * *

"_Were you always alone?" Madelyn asked, her voice softening as Luna revealed her tale. Luna didn't meet her eyes then, her gaze was distant her mouth set in a grim line as she disdained Madelyn's pity. _

* * *

17 Years Ago

Luna stood at the observation window staring down at the martial arts class; a handful of young recruits going through the katas with blank stares and a fiercely determined set to their mouths.

Gryfalcon came to stand at her elbow. "You came to me at that age; young and unformed."

"I've learnt much since that time." She acceded softly.

"Yes and now you must learn the art of artifice and guile and I think such things will be the most useful to you."

"Why must I know these things to kill?" She asked, preferring of course the cold and precise lessons, disassociating herself with her prey to make it easier to imagine her hands around a throat.

"You are cold, Luna you must learn to be otherwise."

The coldness was what helped her maintain her focus, her will, her reason for being. "How?" She asked her eyes moving over a young girl with flaxen hair struggling to maintain her posture.

"Listen, observe and learn." With that sage advice she watched him walk away.

* * *

"_I don't want to hear this." Madelyn hissed._

"_Then I can stop." Luna said; it would be easy for her to stop. She had never delighted in torture and had no desire to continue._

"_No. I want you to go on."_

"_You're only torturing yourself." She was right of course: Madelyn didn't want to feel any more sympathy than she already did. She needed to be as cold as Luna was in order to complete her task before the end of the night._

_She had dreamt of taking Luna Morrell's life, she had dedicated days and hours to it. Every second more was stealing her resolve and she felt powerless to stop it. "Were you ever any good at it?" She asked._

"_At what?"_

"_The deception?"_

"_Mistress Cybele is a most excellent teacher…"_

* * *

Misstress Cybele, as she was known among her students, was a bitten vampire of considerable age and impeccable manners. She had lived nigh on three hundred years, using her wits and guile to survive and prosper as the word shifted from one culture to the next.

"You must learn to be consummate actors." Cybele said running fingers over Luna's shoulder. "You will learn to manipulate, to lure, and to deceive your prey."

She moved in and around the other recruits, a touch here, blowing a breath there, eliciting subtle sighs and gasps from boys and girls alike. "We use such techniques to get close to our marks, to extort what we might before the final death blow is administered. There is much a man will say in the throes of passion more so than in the last gasp of life."

Luna turned her head, eyes moving over the others in the class, all of them were focused on Cybele like serpents in a trance; Luna looked as if noticing them for the first time and it was perhaps the first time she had.

Her eyes met the green-grey eyes of a boy about her age; he blinked steadily, an unreserved curiosity glinting in his eyes, the corner of his left lip quirked upward in a half smile.

* * *

"_Who was he? A friend?"_

"_What are those?" Luna asked with a ghost of smile and Madelyn was disturbed to find beauty in her face. This woman was a victim of the whims of fate much as she herself was. If her mother hadn't been taken from her it would be another face, another being; that Madelyn would have come to hate._

* * *

"Luna?"

She turned at the sound of her name, and saw the green-grey eyed boy approach. Willowy and graceful she had to crane her neck to meet his eyes. "I'm Jonathan." He thrust his hand forward for her to take; she stared at it until he withdrew it. "I know who you are." He continued smoothly. "Everybody does."

"What do you want?" She asked brusquely.

"I want to be your friend."

Startled by the concept of it, she had never had a friend before, Gerard Lambert was the closest thing and they certainly could not be mistaken for friends. "I don't need a friend." She said.

"Everybody needs a friend." He said smiling crookedly.

* * *

"_He was being optimistic I think." Luna said wistfully._

_Madelyn wondered if the hint of sadness about her was artifice, she wondered what parts were real. "What did you do to him?"_

"_Nothing." Luna's tone became hollow and a cold shiver ran down Madelyn's spine._

"_I don't believe you."_

* * *

Miss S


	6. Chapter Five

Chapter Five:

* * *

It was in the passage of time she came to learn how useful a skill it was: to lie. It was an invaluable weapon, texture-less and yet defining in the moments leading up to the kill: to be able to lure in your victim, to have them trust you and then to betray them with the sharp edge of steel.

Luna and Jonathan became sparring partners in the days following their first exchange.

Jonathan's katana descended in a heavy slice toward her head, Luna deflected the blow with her stiletto blades, her muscles bulging with the effort to push back Jonathan's attack.

He was strong but slower by degrees and Luna used her agility to the best advantage.

She thrust a leg out and he stumble, teetering before the fall.

"I yield." He said.

She turned her back on him to place her blades on the weapons rack and picked up her towel to dab the sweat from her face and neck.

"There are People out there mingling with humans, mixed blood, acceptance."

"I don't know anything about it."

"You're not of pure blood." He said and she was jarred by it. She didn't know what she was, her mother was blood of the dragon and her father…he was a mystery. Even being half shape shifter she had never undergone a change, though her desires were primal, her appetites suppressible but running to dark things.

"What does that matter?" She murmured throwing down her towel.

"People like us could find peace in such a Circle." He said.

"Peace?" She laughed humourlessly. "We're training for a war, Jonathan."

"Maybe we're fighting for the wrong side." He whispered.

"Talk like that will put both of us in danger." Luna said.

"I'm serious, Luna." He said towelling the sweat from his neck.

"So am I." She replied.

The lights went out as if a loud and heavy switch had been flipped and they both froze in the darkness. Jonathan's eyes were keener in the dark and she heard his whimper before the lights flipped back on, flooding the room in its sterile brightness.

A host of dark figures surrounded them both. She watched two black clad women take hold of Jonathan by the arms; his eyes were comically wide with fear, mouth working in paroxysms of panic.

"What are you doing?" Luna asked.

"Thank you, Luna." Cybele appeared, her smile was predatory, her tone polite but firmly saying _don't say a word_. "You've proven useful in apprehending this traitor."

She turned back to Jonathan whose head hung low on his chest, his eyes obscured by sweat soaked strands of his hair. "I don't understand." She said, appealing to the boy who sagged like an impotent marionette.

"He's one of _them_." Cybele said, glacial eyes narrowing in a glare. "Only you can confirm it, Luna. Has he or has he not spoken of the traitor's Circle, Circle Daybreak?"

Her eyes moved from face to face and finally falling on Jonathan who raised his face to meet her eyes a desperate unspoken plea lit there in familiar grey and green.

"Yes." She said. Her answer like a final and terrible knell.

The last light died in Jonathan's eyes as she spoke the word that would seal his doom. Yes. He would suffer exquisite torture and an ignominious death for having confided in Luna Morrell. It was artifice and guile that had led him to believe that she was ever a friend.

Luna Morrell had no friends.

* * *

"_They killed him." Madelyn hissed._

"_Eventually." She said her right shoulder twitching in a half shrug. She had not been there to witness the execution but she was sure that they would not suffer the traitor to live, not after having been exposed to their most intimate training programme._

"_You could have saved him." She said dryly._

_Luna's brow arched. "Why would I have done that?"_

"_Because he was your friend."_

_Luna looked at her and Madelyn found her condescending smile infuriating._

* * *

Miss S


	7. Chapter Six

Chapter Six:

* * *

15 Years Ago

Luna Morrell woke up on the eve of her sixteenth birthday, her breath rasping passed her lips; a cold sweat trickled down her spine. "It was a dream." She whispered to herself to clear the cobwebs of nightmare from her mind.

It was still dark, the room felt charged with magic, the darkness seemed blacker like a vacuum in space, airless, comfortless. She had been dreaming of her mother, she could still recall the tender smile and bounty of brown hair cascading in fragrant waves, the slithering of her long skirts on the floor.

She put a hand to her mouth, concentrating on steadying her breath, using the techniques from Master Gyrfalcon's class.

She took her wash bag and headed for the showers, she was awake before her unit comrades and would take advantage of the time alone, with no roving eyes of the instructors nor furtive looks of the students.

She stood under the hot spray of water for some time, trying to find cleansing beneath the heat of the shower but her dreams clung to the back of her retinas.

The boys of the orphanage gone monstrous and arachnid with many limbs, eyes and sharp tearing insect mandibles. They were crouched and feasting on the flesh and blood of her mother's fallen body; but her mother was still alive, her flesh quivering with breath, her eyes clouded with tears and such sadness.

Luna hadn't dreamt so vividly since she was a child. The old fear had risen in her, the first flicker of emotion that she couldn't push down.

She dressed quickly in her training gear black cat suit and combat boots. There would be no training today, today she turned sixteen which meant one more year to graduation if she stayed the course and she planned to.

She had passed all previous years with commendations, applying herself rigorously to her weak areas, taking little rest. It was hard work; her body which was once soft and young was now firm and matured.

She ran her hands over her arms, adjusting her cuffs.

"Morrell." She glanced up at the young man who spoke her name. "You've been called to D-wing."

Her nostrils filled with the scent of the male shapeshifter, her eyes met his briefly and moved away. She could not deny the thrill of having one of her own kind so close, the strange sense of kinship to a young man she had never met and would never know.

Even he sensed it in her, his nostrils flaring for an instant his pupils dilating to make a glittering dark stare. She could only imagine what that look promised, the thought of hot, strong hands on her body…

She acknowledged him with a curt nod.

Those feelings flared since puberty and she pushed them down too, replacing all instinct with inscrutable coldness.

D-wing held the conference rooms and practise halls where recruits were put on show for their benefactors and clients. She hadn't ventured there for years and knew what a summons would mean.

"Gerard Lambert." She spoke his name softly like a totem.

He stood in the hall, a tall and lean silhouette.

He was the same as he had been when she was ten years old and though long ago she had told him she did not remember him from childhood she did. She remembered his scent as she clung to him, trying to deny her senses of her mother's murder. Gerard Lambert had been kind to her. He had saved her life.

A patient smile lit his face though his eyes were wary as they moved over her body, inspecting her from head to toe. Her eyes moved over him too and she saw the quick flash of surprise as she did this.

"Shall we?" He asked motioned toward a room.

He opened the door for her and she stepped through first taking a seat and waiting for him to sit opposite her. He watched how he moved, with the fluidity of a vampire, not the rippling grace of the werewolf or shapeshifter but different, ethereal and elegant.

His motions appeared slow, methodical but she knew he could move with astounding speed that even she could not match. Not yet anyway.

"How is everything?"

"Good." She said with a smile on her face. Did he notice this was training too? To smile and act as normal as normal can be: to even out the tone, to be persuasive, to fascinate, to lure and to betray. "I think I'll graduate this year."

"I have no doubt." He said.

"You've been following my training." She said.

It wasn't a question but he felt compelled to answer anyway. "Yes."

"Am I all that you'd hoped?"

He stared at her, his head taking an analytical tilt. "You are one of the best of your cohort, that's no secret."

"Yes, but am I all that you hoped?"

He looked uncomfortable then. "You've surpassed our expectations in every sense."

"I'm sixteen today." She said. His eyes pinned her waiting for her to continue. "I haven't been outside in six years."

Silence ticked in the moments they sat together, staring, her words hanging in the ether between them a request…an invitation.

"It would be my pleasure to take you out, Luna." She noted the way his eyes lingered, the smile fading on one side until his expression sobered completely as if realising the passage of time as she changed from child to woman, from innocent to trained killer.

* * *

"_It was the most pleasant birthday I remember, the only one I remember actually." She whispered._

* * *

"Happy birthday." Gerard said with no hint of irony and pushed the cake and flaming candle toward her.

They were in a small restaurant in town that had tables on every corner of the winding path that led to small floor where couples danced to jazz music that tinkled softly from a gramophone.

She stared at the cake dumb founded; she had never been given cake nor candles before. Her birthdays went by largely unnoticed in training facility, even in the orphanage and as for her mother's home…she never could recall, even she had forgotten the date of her birthday.

"Make a wish and blow out the candle." He said softly.

She glanced at him and then down at the orange flicker of light. She closed her eyes and pictured the faces of her enemies, the nightmare vision of the insectoid boys, the blood and broken flesh of her mother. She blew gently and extinguished the flame and glanced up at Gerard Lambert who was watching her so closely.

"How many birthdays have you had?" She asked without looking up, eyes on the spiralling reams of smoke that carried her wishes to the heavens and all of those spirits of the air waiting to fulfil them.

"Two hundred and three."

Her eyes flicked up to his, taking in his youthful face, the flawless complexion those bright eyes that spoke of otherness and hidden things. A man for nineteen and vampire for one hundred and eighty four years, it was strange to think anyone would want to live so long, she wondered about the life he had lived, had he loved, had he done anything in his mortal life that he thought of all these years later?

Eternity spread out before her and she thought of the horror of watching the world change, people passing into the obscurity of time whilst remaining ever living, unchanging, and helpless to stop the passage of time.

She reached out and placed her hand atop his, his hand was cool beneath her fingers and she felt his fingers twitch as if he were going to snatch back his hand back but he didn't.

Her eyes moved to beyond and over his shoulder at the men and women swaying and twirling in circles against the glow of soft orange light and swing music.

"I've never danced before." She whispered.

He stood abruptly.

He offered his hand. "Come." He said and she followed him to the dance floor.

He took her hand placing it on his hip; she felt the taught skin there, the prominent bone, the edge of muscle. He placed her other hand on his shoulder, she felt rock hard tension there. "Like this." He said and they swayed together back and forth.

"This isn't dancing is it?" She asked, eyes glancing at the couples gliding across the floor.

"It's a start." He said with a smile.

"How many people have you killed?" She asked suddenly.

He was caught off guard but smoothed his shock with a toothy smile. "Why would you ask such a thing?"

"You're an agent, aren't you?"

His expression sobered and his eyes became bright with predatory light. "I've killed many, Luna."

"Does it get easier?"

He nodded. "Yes."

She nodded to herself and laid her head against his shoulder allowing him to rock her back and forth.

* * *

Miss S


	8. Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven:

* * *

14 Years Ago

As expected Luna graduated the training programme with commendations on all sides. Some were wary of her of course; she was still cold beneath the layers of artifice: all those carefully constructed courtesy and enthusiasm.

She moved with single minded purpose and no one knew the purpose and she would not say. No one dared ask or did not care to.

It came to the time where graduates were assigned to positions all over the world, the majority would stay in the states, some would take residence in the Houses of the Vampire Court, some would haunt the edges of the great American and European Covens but Luna…well Luna was waiting for Gerard Lambert.

She stood as he entered; he looked grim and dangerous, gone were the patient smiles and gleaming eyes of her youth, he stared at her without speaking for some time. "It's time." He said.

Her heart gave a flutter, a small thrill of what was to come next, it was finally time and she had been patient for seven long arduous years.

He led her to a sleek black town car and they got in the back together, the windows were tinted and she looked at the scenery in silhouette passing them by.

"Take this." Gerard said and thrust a small black velvet covered box into her hand and she was startled but took it from him. "Wear it."

She opened the box that sprang open as if excited to reveal its contents and inside was a pendant cultivated into the shape of a lily. It was made of white gold and the three stamens were dotted with diamond points. It was lovely.

She glanced at Gerard who was busying himself with some other business turning his back to her and wondered if it was his gift to her or something else though she never asked just closed the box with a snap and slid it into her pocket.

* * *

The House of Ophisian was based in a sprawling colonial mansion; there were miles of distance between them and any conceivable neighbour. She was escorted through the semi-lit halls to a lavish room where she would dress before meeting her benefactor.

A black dress has been draped on a tailoring dummy.

She reached out to touch the silken fabric, admiring the orangey gloss that touched it from the dull light of the desk lamp.

She changed her clothes quickly, slipping into the black silk, the skirt was long enough to touch the floor, the delicate straps made her skin seem golden and enhanced the slenderness of her back.

She retrieved Gerard's black box and clasped the lily pendant around her neck, it sat above her breasts, shining in the semi-light, the only piece of brightness against the black of her formal dress and the darkness of her hair.

There was a knock at the door and she turned to find Gerard in the threshold. "It's time." He said. She followed him obediently, no longer concerned by his silent strangeness.

She followed him, all nervous excitement hidden beneath an expressionless mask.

They walked to the centre of the mansion, she could feel the press of many bodies behind the doors, the Presences of many People. She took a deep breath to steel herself against what was to come and it earned a glance from Gerard.

"Okay?" He asked.

She nodded.

He pushed open the doors. Gerard remained standing in front as if to create a fleshy barrier between her and the vampire who sat imperiously on his throne-like chair.

"Lord Everard Royle of the House Ophisian." Gerard spoke, his voice strong and clear in the amphitheatre that leant an eerie echo to his voice and grim ceremony to the introduction. "I present to you Luna Dr-"

"Morrell." She interrupted; her voice a cool monotone. "I am Luna Morrell."

Gerard glanced at her sharply, his green eyes darkening incomprehensibly with warning or anger. "Luna Morrell."

"Yes." Everard Royle's voice was just as she remembered as a child, that awful efficient kind of rumble that had no time to soften or joke. "We have been waiting for you with baited breath these last thirteen years."

Her eyes were hard and unforgiving as a murky swamp being those shades of green and gold and she met Royle's eyes which were a dark shade of blue, mysterious and holding many secrets.

She hated the vampire, though the emotion was cold inside her like a seed of pure untouched ice.

"Stand aside, Gerard and let us see her."

He did so but was reluctant as he moved away.

"You look so much like your mother." Royle sighed, his voice a dark, deep rumble. "Who is your father?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." She said. "After all you knew my mother intimately."

Titters in the crowd, the sound somewhere between outrage and wry humour; she could imagine the scandal of a Night Lord having an affair with the exiled daughter of a shapeshifter, no matter that she was of royal blood, no matter that she had been beautiful and kind and loving.

How Luna hated the look on Royle's face, the shame danced quicksilver across his azurite eyes, and the thought that perhaps he was her father. "You overstep, Agent Morell." He said from between clenched teeth.

"Forgive me, my Lord." She said with a deep mocking incline of her head. "I did not intend to offend you. I am at your mercy."

Royle got to his feet, he was as tall and elegant as she remembered, dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit, his raven hair slicked back from his face. He had a dark sexual magnetism that was effortless and luring; she could see how her mother was drawn to the aristocratic vampire though she felt no warmth in him.

"What do you want of me?" He asked amusement shining in his eyes and a wry set of his mouth.

"Immortality." She said so seriously there was a moment of absolute silence amongst the gathered, if any of them could breath, which she knew they could not, they would all be holding a collective breath.

Royle laughed humourlessly. "Impossible." His smile quickly sobered, eyes turning flint hard. "It is forbidden."

"Is it?" Her brow arched, a moment of doubt slithered into her heart. "I was led to understand that you great men with titles and Houses can do as you like."

Gerard stepped forward just short of grasping her arm.

"I was also lead to believe that your oath meant something." Her eyes glittered as they met the vampire's gaze. "You gave me your oath through your proxy that I would be awarded what I wished."

"If it is within his power." Gerard whispered beneath his breath but Luna heard him.

"This is within your power, is it not, my Lord?"

"I have never broken an oath." Murmurs from the crowd as they agreed with this, or at least they could not recall a time when he had. His eyes shone with fierce pride and he lifted his chin haughtily, Luna sighed inwardly.

"I will hunt whom you like, I will kill whom you like, but the price for my obedience is immortality. This is all I will ever ask of you."

He leaned forward in a dramatic pose. "What if I took your life here and now?"

"Then you will be wasting a lucrative asset." She shot back.

Royle drew back, composing himself carefully and resuming his seat. His eyes flicked to Lambert. "When she is ready and blooded by her fist kill bring her back to me."

* * *

Miss S


	9. Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight:

* * *

Gerard Lambert stared at her whilst she hid beneath the veil of her hair; his eyes were acid bright filled with disbelief and questions, many questions but he did not voice any.

Wasn't it the conceit of the young to lust after immortality, had he not fallen prey to his desires to live forever, to be young forever with no man nor woman who could deny his strength or his beauty?

"You will get one night of respite before your first mission." He murmured.

She turned to face him slowly.

"What's the mission?"

"One night of respite, Luna." He said, voice going cold.

Shut away in the guest quarters which was opulently decorated in black and blood red fabrics and furniture. She had bid Gerard good night at the door, his eyes as distant as his thoughts.

One night. The night would seem an eternity for she was so close to what she wanted and yet the sun could not rise fast enough.

She sat on the silken bedclothes, one hand wrapped around the ebony bed post and she waited until daybreak.

* * *

"_He was trying to protect you."_

"_He was being sentimental and foolish." Luna said._

_Madelyn looked at her as if to say_ you're the fool.

_Luna shook her head from side to side, the condescending look upon her once more. "No amount of respite can prepare you for your first kill." She explained. "Your heart pounds and your hands tremble and not all from nerves but anticipation. I was born with dragon blood and I had been fighting dark appetites for most of my mortal life, it would be the first time I could indulge what my secret heart desired: to kill with claws."_

_Madelyn shuddered._

* * *

"You're early." Gerard spoke to the darkness.

A figure stepped into the light, she had not sensed it and it startled her, a reminder that there was still much to learn.

"Always." The dark silhouette drawled.

"Luna this is Agent Six."

Agent Six was a grizzled old shapeshifter who did nothing to hide his inhuman qualities. His eyes were dark, glittering beads of boredom and disdain and she saw the hint of fang as he opened his mouth to slip a cigarette between his teeth.

"Nice to meet you."

Gerard glared at him. "You have your orders."

Six nodded plucking the cigarette from his mouth and clacking his teeth together loudly. "Of course; and has she been debriefed?"

Luna glanced at Gerard and back to Six whose eyes were on her running up and down her body.

They travelled to a non-descript suburban street but the sight was wonderful, because Luna had been confined for so many years that such a normal scene was exotic to her. The place was deliciously scented with life, street lamps offered a romantic orangey glow to the sloping roves and desolate lawns.

She breathed in the scent deeply, savouring it, trying to calm the nervous ticking of her heart and the anticipation of her first real kill.

"Concentrate." The shapeshfter beside her hissed irritably.

He made a series of hand gesture and they moved silently in the darkest shadows toward the marked house. They crouched in between two blueberry bushes, eyes on the house watching the shadows of the people inside move from room to room.

"The two adults." She murmured confirming to herself that they were alone in the house, seeing no other presence, feeling no other presence.

Agent Six was leaning toward her he greedily sucked in the scent of her through his nostrils and let out a shuddering breath. "Come see me sometime when you get tired of ol' Maegester Gerard."

She glared at him but it only provoked a toothy smile.

"What? You've never felt the need to fuck after the thrill of the kill?"

"I've never done it before." She said flatly.

"Fucked?"

"Or killed."

He stared at her as she moved forward in perfect silence.

* * *

"_Stop." Madelyn said tears streaming down her cheeks, weaving through the scars leaving glittering trails in the mid-morning sun._

_Luna looked up at her, her eyes silver hard and unforgiving: a vampire's eyes. "Your family was my first mission." Her words, her tone were neutral and matter of fact provoking more tears._

* * *

Agent Six snatched her hand and inspected the flesh and blood caked and caught in her fingernails. "You'll do just fine." He said with a rumble of cruel laughter. "Just fine Agent Morrell."

Gerard was at her shoulder in an instant and she didn't want him close, didn't want to hear the echo of his words in her head…_ It would be kinder to end her life now_

She looked into Gerard's eyes and felt the very last part that could ever have been warm turn to ice. Gerard reached out a hand and she evaded his touch, she would accept no comfort, she deserved nothing, the vision of the girl's grey eyes was scarred into the back of her retinas.

* * *

"_Why did you spare me?"_

"_Do you think I spared you anything?" Luna asked flashing her fangs._

_Madelyn pulled back, disgusted by her, from the sharpness of her teeth to the brightness of her eyes and the words that sprung cruel from her mouth. It allowed Madelyn to embrace the fullness of her loathing for the murderer of her parents. How had she ever allowed herself to pity the woman?_

_Luna's eyes became distant once more as if exploring a landscape unobtainable to a mere mortal like Madelyn. "I think I was trying to spare myself something. To hold back the last part of myself…" Luna trailed off, tears glossy in her eyes that had become russet shade and she softened completely as if she had transformed from a beast into a beautiful maiden._

"_I hate you for what you've done." Madelyn whispered._

"_You wouldn't be mortal if you didn't." Luna replied infuriatingly calm now._

* * *

Miss S


	10. Chapter Nine

Chapter Nine

* * *

"It's done." She said. "When do I get what I was promised?"

Gerard glared at her but did not answer her question.

She gritted her teeth, her jaw aching, her stomach in knots of anticipation. "Answer me." She pleaded softly, her throat hardening with the onset of tears.

"Do you know what you're asking for?" He asked tightly.

"Yes." She said softly.

"You couldn't conceive of it, Luna." Darkness coloured his tone, the sound of introspective self-loathing.

"I know." She said and turned to face him, noting the haunted look in his eyes and the grim set of his mouth. He was two hundred and four years old, or was it more, had he had a birthday since? She stood, feeling his eyes stick to her as she moved.

"Think carefully." He said.

"I have." She threw over her shoulder. "For six years I've thought of nothing else."

* * *

"_Why would you want to live forever?" Madelyn asked softly._

"_I don't intend to." Luna replied._

* * *

It was minutes before the appointed time: another audience in the amphitheatre of vampires and she felt as steady as rock. There was only the costume to complete the performance and Gerard Lambert had it in his hands.

"Red." He said running the silk between his fingers. She looked at it, at him, his eyes so full of memory and emotion that she felt excluded from the present moment.

She pulled the dress from his grasp, slowly teasing the fabric from between his fingers.

"Ask for something, ask for anything but this." He whispered. "Do you understand?"

"You have to understand why I can't do what you say." She said.

She went behind the dressing screen and replaced her austere black outfit for the red silk dress. The gown rippled elegantly around her, showing her womanly curves making her feel feminine, beautiful, powerful.

Perhaps it would be the last time she saw herself in her mortal guise. Tonight might be the night she would never know what it was to hunger for meat, to grow tired, to feel pain as a mortal felt pain.

"It's time." Gerard's voice startled her for her nerves were on edge, thrilled with the thought of having her wish fulfilled.

Only the sick-sad look in Gerard's extraordinary green eyes dampened her mood and his words from before came to her mind. _Ask for something, ask for anything but this._

They walked through the dimly lit halls of the residence of Ophisian, there was no one in sight though she sensed many People around her. Gerard stood two paces in front, his presence a shivering line of fire.

When they entered the hall, the first thing she noted was that there were more vampires seated to witness the exchange, maybe word had travelled of her outlandish wish and curiosity as to whether the Head of the House would grant it to her.

They were announced, the preliminaries taken care of and Everard Royle was sat on the edge of his throne, staring down at her, his expression belying nothing of what he was to say. "It is a perverse and unnatural thing what you ask of me, Luna Morrell."

Titters of agreement from the other vampires. It was an outrage to sully the blood of Ophisian with a presumed mixed breed shapeshifter. "You have given me your oath, Lord Everard Royle." She said her voice echoing about the amphitheatre. "Shall you be foresworn?"

"I gave you my oath." He agreed. "And you have asked for the gift of the Blood." Murmurs rose through the ranks. _Forbidden. _The word rang out clear and firm. Forbidden.

Royle's features lit with the cold cruel smile. "You can have the blood if you can find a Maegester willing to bestow it but be careful, Luna Morrell the clock is ticking."

He laughed, a mellifluous sound that rose in pitch and tempo and provoked jeers from the crowds.

Her eyes flicked to Gerard Lambert whose expression was stone.

She was seventeen years old, she would have two years to be changed after that there was no chance to be other than what she was.

She cast her eyes to the seated vampires, they all stared back, their shining gazes were unforgiving. _So this is the catch then_, she thought, _there are no Maegester's willing to make a bastard child of a shapeshifter into a vampire._

* * *

"_Well somebody must have done it." Madelyn said._

"_Of course, otherwise we wouldn't be having this conversation." Luna said sardonically._

"_Who was it? If Everard Royle refused to do it, who would be mad enough to do it?"_

"_Mad?" Luna laughed to herself. "Yes, mad."_

* * *

Luna ran out into the hall, alone, surrounded by the dim light and echo of scornful laughter from the amphitheatre full of vampires. The rock steady feeling of fate had diminished leaving only the fear and shame of being tricked. Years of patient work and expectation had been stripped from her and she could not remove the sight of Everard Royle's sneer.

"Don't cry; if you do I might not make you a vampire." The voice was ice cold and full of evil mirth.

She looked up at the vampire who stood leaning against a wall, a turquoise jewel eye glittered from between strands of dark hair. She straightened up immediately, she hadn't meant to show weakness in front of anyone, she had let the military training slip for an instant, having thought that her one wish would never be fulfilled and all the years of torment wasted.

"Who are you?"

"Did I not introduce myself? Ah, how remiss of me. I am Estienne Bloodborn natural son of the Night Lord Lancelyn of the House Endine." He gave a mocking bow.

"You are not pledged to Ophisian?"

"Of course not." He said showing his fangs in an expression of disdain. "Not six hundred virgin boys, slit throat and hung upside down could tempt me to join Ophisian."

She was wary, of course, any vampire was a formidable opponent, their strength alone was something to fear but there was something else in Estienne's expression, it was pure madness.

"I do not think it so perverse that you have asked for such a thing." He said with a toothy grin. "What creature would not want the strength, the power, the beauty of the vampire? Is that why you want this?"

She gave him blankness and steel and would not answer his question.

"No matter. Have you never thought that perhaps you would die?" He asked.

"I'm willing to take that risk."

"And so is Everard Royle it seems." He mused.

"He is oath bound to give me what I ask."

"Yes and true to the name of his House he has slithered out of that bind quite neatly, don't you think?" It was true and yet she could not bear to think of Royle taking her blood, holding her in his arms, would he think of her mother and how he had held her: whispering tenderly into her ear as he sucked her blood? She shuddered and could not disguise it from Estienne.

His eyes sparkled with eldritch light, his expression all boyish mischief. "I think it would exasperate Everard deeply and that is one of the keenest pleasures in these times of peace."

"What are you saying?" She asked.

"I will be your Maegester, Luna Morrell." He said, mouth splitting in a grin.

* * *

Miss S


	11. Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

* * *

"_You are a daughter of the First House of the Shapeshifters." Madelyn said softly thinking of the figure in history Tisiphone Drache._

"_My mother was." Luna murmured._

"_But you-"_

"_For whatever reason my mother left the First House and I knew nothing of it and I don't want to know."_

"_I didn't know a shapeshifter could, you know?"_

"_Neither did I." She said. "But here I am and it seems it is possible after all."_

"_You let the mad bastard change you. You have his blood inside of you." She shivered with disgust at the thought of the mad vampire Estienne Bloodborn, a figure she had transformed in her mind to caricature proportions, rotund and hideous._

"_No." Luna said with a small sad smile. "No, I don't."_

* * *

"Luna."

She froze feeling as if she had been caught; she turned toward Gerard Lambert's voice and found him clothed in casual wear, a black t-shirt, jeans and sneakers; he looked almost ordinary except for his uncanny good looks and mesmeric peridot eyes.

He looked her over carefully as if he knew where she was going and why, despite this he asked anyway. "Have you…?" He seemed to struggle to form his question and licked his lips before speaking. "Have you found a Maegester?"

She met his eyes briefly and nodded. "Lord Estienne of Endine." She said emotionlessly.

His expression was inscrutable and that alone spoke volumes; Estienne Bloodborn was thought to be insane and perverse even by his own House, of course he would be willing to give the Blood to a shapeshifter.

"You can't do this." Lambert said with uncharacteristic passion and grasped hold of her arm, his grip tightening.

"I do what I must." She said without meeting his eyes.

"You are not a whore." He said through his teeth.

"Am I not?" She asked. "I've been trained to murder for money and favours, does this not make me a whore?"

He released her, a flash of guilt because he had brought her to this life, she could see the quicksilver emotion flash through his eyes and then it was gone replaced by an unreadable shade of green.

"He wants me to know the touch of a man before I…" She didn't say the word but it echoed there between them. _Die._

She pulled herself from his slackening grasp and walked quickly through the dark halls. Estienne's quarters were some of the furthest from her own, many of the guests were quartered here, away from the pleasures reserved for those of Ophision.

She passed no one in the halls and she was glad because she felt like a child sneaking out of her parent's home to embark on an illicit affair.

She knocked gently upon Estienne's door and heard the dull murmur of his command to enter.

Estienne was exquisitely made, a Lamia had a different quality from a made vampire, she had come to observe this over time. He was long limbed and elegant as any predatory being, having a quiet physical strength that had nothing to do with size.

His hair was auburn by light but in the soft glow of candlelight it was as red and magnificent as rubies. His eyes were deep faerie pools of turquoise, they glinted like crystals as she moved toward him.

He had beauty and his madness sat behind his eyes and in the crook of his mouth as he smiled lazily. Luna removed her cardigan to show the ethereal gown he had chosen for her, delicate drapes of cream silk voile falling to handkerchief points.

"You look wonderful, my dear." Estienne said and beckoned her with a lazy motion of his wrist. "Come."

She did as he bid and approached him slowly.

"Remove your shoes."

She slipped out of her heels, her bare feet luxuriating in the softness of the carpet.

"Undo your hair."

She moved the pin that held it in its neat bun and her brown hair fell in loose curls around her shoulders.

"Absolutely beautiful." He murmured dreamily.

He put a match to a bowl of oil and powder and thing lit up like magnesium and emitted a powerful smoke, it rammed up her nostrils like a fist, racing down her throat to spread through her lungs, she felt dizzy, lighter…

"What is it?" She asked.

"Mysteries." He said with a fanged smile.

He blew reams of potent smoke into her face and she didn't cough or choke no matter how much she might have wanted to. She didn't want to appear weak not tonight when he would put her at her most vulnerable.

"It's delicious." He insisted and grasped her wrist, leaping out with lightning quick speed; his fingers were like ice on her skin. "Come join me, Luna."

She joined him, almost eager now to dispel the last vestige of nerves with the fragrance of his smoke that made her body feel like liquid. Time moved by in a haze, and she remembered only Estienne's dreamy laughter and her own.

She couldn't tell how long she had been sitting beside him, allowing him to touch her beneath the silk dress when a dark figure cut through the reams of Mysteries and cast them in shadow.

"What are you doing?" Estienne's voice struggled to sound affronted so deep was he caught up in his drug.

"I'm taking her out of here." Gerard said, his tone would brook no refusal and he lifted her into Luna arms as if she weighed no more than a child.

"She asked for this." Estienne growled as if waking or wading out of the haze; his eyes suddenly wild, like a maddened beast. "What right do you have to deny her her dying wish?"

Gerard didn't reply and slammed the door on Estienne and his smoke.

"Why?" Luna's voice was no more than a brittle rasp; she could not rightly divide her thoughts passed the Mysteries though she tried to capture the sight of Gerard's tender expression, the softness of his voice.

"Not like this." He said. "I would save you from this at least."

* * *

"_You didn't deserve his pity or kindness." Madelyn said._

"_I know." Madelyn was startled when she agreed._

"_Why did he stop Estienne?"_

"_I don't know." She confessed. "It would have been simpler if it were Estienne but things are never simple, are they?"_

* * *

Miss S


	12. Chapter Eleven

Chapter Eleven

* * *

Like many things in the House of Ophisian, great things were marked by ritual. The Giving of the Blood would be done in the Bettina Room, a room sumptuously decorated in blood red and violet and furniture inlaid with gold.

It was once the quarters of a Powerful vampire Maistress Bettina Vesperian who had founded the House of Ophisian several hundred years before Luna was born. The histories said Vesperian was a priestess of the cult of Ophis and the Queen of vampires Maya had recruited her, she was famed for her beauty, her divine power and was one of few immortals known to match the mother-vampire for strength.

Luna felt little for the histories of vampires but it was useful knowledge to have when facing an opponent who was bound to the strengths and weakness of his or her bloodline.

She walked down the centre of the room, clothed in a white robe of the un-blooded. Her Maegester was wearing the black hooded robe, she couldn't pick out any of his features, darkened by shadow, the robe and the incense rising in lose waves toward the heavens.

Words were spoken, she hardly heard them, though they were eloquent and ceremonial and she even responded on cue and then it was time to be taken and she felt a stab of fear.

He took hold of her firmly, her head moving to one side to bear her throat and he moved hair from her neck to see the pulsing vein. She gave a small hitched breath as the mouth descended and the sharp teeth pricked her skin.

With his lips on her throat she knew it was not Estienne who was not capable of such consideration, of such kindness and she knew it was Gerard Lambert, his grip, his scent, his mouth. She surrendered herself to the feeling, his lips forming a cool red circle and he sucked her blood, a pleasure that teetered on the edge of pain and she grew weaker and weaker.

She was glad it was him, it seemed right and yet she was afraid the moment before he would suck the last of her life fluid. _What if I don't come back?_

He stopped, his lips hovering at her throat, his breath warm on her skin making her tremble with desire. "Luna." He whispered.

She closed her eyes. "Please." She gasped and raised a hand that felt as heavy as stone to push his head back against her throat, to take the last sip.

She was balancing on the knife's edge of death and she wanted to fall, she wanted to fling herself from the precipice and free fall into the dark unknown.

He didn't hesitate, his fangs were back in the meat of her throat and he greedily sucked at her and all there was was darkness.

* * *

Her eyes flicked open, light fell upon her iris making the crystal beauty of her new eyes shine emitting shades of gold and green like a kaleidoscope across the dark surface beside her.

Her scent, which was already keen in her mortal life, was more acute and as she tried to breath she felt her throat contract and she began to choke. There was something other too, the thin, tugging feeling of a nagging hunger.

"You don't need to breath." The voice was gentle coming out of the dark. No, she no longer needed to and she stopped trying and silence filled the semi-lit room.

"How do you feel?" It was Gerard's patient tone that pulled her out of her reverie.

Feel. Yes. She felt different: she felt strange as if her skin were too tight, she felt as if the blood that flowed through her were made of crystal. "I…I…"

Gerard Lambert stepped out of the darkness, clothed in a beautifully tailored dark suit and there was no hint that he had drank her blood nor fed her his blood. He looked as he had in her childhood, impeccable and unobtainable. Gerard Lambert. Over two hundred years and he was unchanged and yet he had changed, his face seemed alive with light and shadow, those eyes that were beautiful before her change were now incandescent with such colours they made her heart seize for an instant.

She stood and felt her legs tremble.

She fell against him and cried out at the feel of him beneath her hands, his body against her own, lean muscle and thrumming with potential. She ran her fingers through his soft, silk textured strands of hair.

The world was new and yet it was the same. Gerard Lambert, ever part of her life was now bound to her more intimately than she could ever have feared or hoped.

She knew by doing this he had saved her from being passed around as a toy, Estienne would have done that having no regard for her. Gerard had protected her as he had all those years ago from Evelyn Halisaret, removing her from the jaws of one beast to deposit her somewhere hostile and uncertain.

"Maegester." She whispered and fell to her knees in a gesture of genuflect and he didn't move as if he were rooted by his own private sorrows. She was painfully aware of his presence, his emotion rocking through her psyche and knew that this was what it was to be a child and a Maegester.

* * *

"_Do you love him?" Madelyn asked though she doubted Luna was capable of the love of which she spoke._

"_Gerard?" Luna asked and Madelyn nodded. "I admired and respected him…is that love?"_

"_Is he alive?"_

_Luna gave that awkward one armed shrug, difficult to do when you're lying prone on the floor, straddled by a young woman wielding a knife. "Does that matter?" She asked._

"_I suppose not. How can I expect a cold creature like you to love?"_

"_Perhaps you mistake me and my kind." Luna's eyes flicked to meet hers, flashing brightly. "We feel more acutely than you could ever imagine, our love is as fierce as our hate."_

* * *

Miss S


	13. Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

* * *

In those early days even Gerard marvelled at how Luna adapted to the change, her senses keen and her appetites large she applied herself with the same fevered focus as she had her training.

They hunted together, out in the open air, Gerard choosing the victim and Luna taking the first decadent bite. She never found the mechanism of feeding repulsive, she delighted on each drop of blood, the beauty of ingesting the life force and the thrill of the victim's presence moving through her.

Gerard and Luna shared a closeness in those first days, their psychic link open as due a Maegester and child but more so, they worked well together, swift, precise and thorough.

Of course all of this was being carefully assessed and that was why Luna stood in Everard Royle's personal chambers.

"I am pleased you have come through the veil." Everard Royle said his eyes moving over her with such thorough intensity that she gritted her teeth against the sudden bubbling anger. "Welcome to the family." He laughed and she cringed at the sound.

Gerard stood at her back, the line of fire that would give her strength and reassurance; he would not let Royle harm her and he would not allow her to harm Royle.

"It is beautiful symmetry that Lambert should be the one to give you the Blood, after all it was Lambert who petitioned for you to be ward of Ophisian and you have excelled beyond all of our expectations, Luna."

Royle stood and approached her but she did not meet his eyes, she cast hers demurely to the ground. "You are awfully like your mother." He mused. "Yet her magic and lure was of the earth and you…you Luna, are illusive like a spirit of the air."

"What do you want of me, my lord?" She asked.

His eyes met Gerard's over her dark head and something passed between them, something broke. "I will appoint you my personal body guard."

Luna looked up, startled to be trusted with an important task so soon yet it pleased her for the days would go quickly if she did not have to fight to be near him.

"I am honoured."

"You should be." He said, his eyes glittered as they stared at one another. "You have questions?"

Luna shook her head, no. "I am ready to serve."

"And you will." He smiled and she knew his beauty to be sharp like a weapon. "You will indeed, my dear."

* * *

"_What about Gerard?" Madelyn said. "What happened?"_

"_Royle took me for his own: he exiled Lambert discreetly, sending him on errands that would take him as far away from the House as possible. I never saw Gerard from that day and that was thirteen years ago."_

* * *

Life continued at a quiet pace standing at the back of Everard Royle, she was to act merely as a threat and a novelty for many were curious about the shapeshifter-vampire.

In truth she could not shift, nor had she done so when she was mortal, the natural appetites of the shapeshifter had transmuted easily to the ne hungers of the vampire.

Each day she watched Everard Role keenly, she nodded when he required affirmation and looked away when he required privacy. But when he demanded more of her, she refused him with an icy stare and solemn shake of her head.

There was a sudden sharp knock on the door before they flew open and a small figure strode through with the arrogance of a queen.

The vampire woman stood before her as if conjured from her deepest nightmares; Evelyn Halisaret still sported the short pixie haircut and disdainful twist of the lips. Her dark eyes gleamed in the light from the fireplace glancing over her quickly before turning her full attention to Everard Royle.

"What's this?" She drawled. "A new whore for Ophisian?"

"Evelyn." Royle's tone was a mild warning as the small woman approached him as sinuous as a serpent.

"Aren't you going to greet me properly, Everard?" She asked.

He stood slowly and took her hand in his, instead of bestowing a kiss on her knuckles he twisted her arm around and struck fangs into her wrist, swallowing a healthy mouthful of her blood.

"Bastard." She hissed and snatched back her arm.

"I've missed you." He said with a sweet smile, her blood painting his lips.

Her eyes shot toward Luna who stood as solid and blank as a statue. "Whilst you sit here and entertain your new concubines, the Vampire Council is sticking knives into the Court and erring on the judgement of the Joint Council."

"So?"

"So, don't you want to know what Redfern has in mind?"

"Not particularly."

"Idiot."

"Careful, Evelyn."

"No, you're the one who should be. Hunter Redfern wants the Court to remove itself form the Council and the Council to remove itself from the Joint Council." She said. "There are rumours that he's gathering forces; that he might have found one of the Wild Powers."

Royle snorted. "Fairy tales."

"Vesperion was one of the oracles who foresaw the apocalypse even she spoke of Wild Powers: they were not fairy tales to her."

"If Redfern and his pack of inbred witch children want to chase apocalyptic forces then let them. If it looks like he's winning his war then we'll be there on bended knee ready for his new world order until then I'm exceedingly comfortable with my…concubines."

Evelyn glared icily at him.

"You look tired, Evelyn, why don't you retire from some refreshment." Though his tone remained polite it was no mere suggestion and Evelyn spun on her heels and stalked away.

Luna took an involuntary step forward as if she were going to follow the woman. "Who is she, my lord?"

He was irked by her question, his mind full of the conversation he had carried out in hushed tones. "Evelyn is my child."

"Child?" She pressed.

"I made her." His eyes glinted in the darkness.

Luna cast her eyes to the closed doors and pondered that. Did Royle know Evelyn Halisaret had murdered her mother, his lover? Had Evelyn done it out of jealousy for her mother had divided her father's attention? Had Halisaret been acting on the orders of Royle as the Head of Ophisian? Did she hold fast to the laws that governed the Vampire Court and was it deep loyalty that had moved her to do what she did?

"Call on Master Tunney, tonight we prepare a feast."

"Yes, my lord." She said distractedly and went to do his bidding.

* * *

Miss S


	14. Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

* * *

"_You served your enemies like a slave." Madelyn said a look of disgust on her face._

"_For thirteen years I was at their beck and call, doing whatever they wanted of me."_

"_Killing?"_

"_Of course." Luna said, speaking as if it were the least of the awful things that could be asked of a trained killer. _

"_How could you stand it?"_

"_I couldn't." She said blandly. _

"_What did you do?"_

_A small, sad smile turned her lips._

* * *

_Several Hours Ago_

"Welcome home." Royle said as Luna knelt before him. With a flick of the wrist he motioned for the guards to leave and they closed the door behind them to leave Luna and Royle alone together.

"How was Yukon?" He asked.

"Pleasant, my Lord." She said with a curt nod.

"Stand up." He instructed and she did.

"I have missed you." He said and leaned toward her, intimately close. His lips moved against hers and she remained inert beneath his touch. "You're made of ice, Luna. Why won't you kiss me? Is it because you think I might be your father?" He erupted into peals of laughter falling into his chair, covering his face with a hand, peering at her between his fingers.

She turned cold gold-green eyes to him. "You are not a man worthy to be my father." Her voice soft but her expression was hard and angry.

He froze in his seat, the cruel humour draining away to leave an unyielding statue.

"What did you say?"

His features shivered with rage and he pulled back his hand to strike her on the face. It was not the first time, usually she would allow him to finish his strike but this time she grasped his wrist and squeezed until he made a small sound of pain.

"You're not worthy to be my father." She said evenly.

Before he could react she twisted him and spun him to the ground, overpowering him with strength and skill.

He did not react instantly, taking the matter for a game, a salacious smile curved his lips as she straddled him. "If I had known you liked it rough-"

She covered his mouth with one hand and pulled out a syringe from her belt with the other. In one swift motion she stabbed it into his throat, into the pulsing vein and she squeezed the plunger and the liquid surged into his body, she could see the whites of his eyes as he felt the poison like fire in his veins. It was a heavy dose, meant to act quickly and it would not leave her much time.

She withdrew the syringe and discarded it in the flames, the odorous scent of burning plastic filling the room with clouds of thick grey smoke.

He realised this was pre-meditated, that she had chosen her time, her weapon carefully. He cursed under his breath.

"Evelyn should have killed you where she found you." He spat.

"You should never have used my mother."

"Your mother…" He laughed bitterly under his breath. "Your mother."

"Say her name." She whispered.

Blood bubbled on his lips as he spoke. "Tisiphone."

"Did you know she was named after one of the three Erinyes? Tisphone, avenging murder." She said with an ice cold smile. "What do you think her parents were thinking when they chose such a name?"

He coughed and sputtered, more blood marring the perfect ivory of his face.

"Do you think of her as I did every day since she was taken from you?" She asked; her tone lulling despite the manic intent in her eyes.

"Luna." He gasped her name.

"No." She pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't beg; I couldn't bear to hear a word of it."

He groaned his body twisting beneath hers as if trying to fight the poison, it would be moving slowly through his blood stream, soon his limbs would fail him completely and there would be no struggling, his mind would be the last thing to die, slowly extinguishing like the wick of a candle burning slowly to its end.

There was such hatred in his eyes, hard blue stones glaring at her as if he could wither her with his stare.

"If it weren't for you, my Lord, she would be alive today and I would not be this monster." She slowly pulled her knife from its sheath, the cool steel and wood sliding against the leather and glinting in the light like a hungry tooth. She put the steel beneath his chin, slowly scoring the soft skin of his throat. "Or perhaps you are my father, hmm? And if it weren't for you I may never have been born."

Royle made an appalling noise in his throat, unable to articulate as his tongue was robbed by the venom.

She pulled back the knife and watched him as his body became inert, useless to him and there was nothing but the fierce glint of his eyes as soon the light in them would fade.

She wanted him to watch and so she raised the knife in a two handed grip above her head and with a rapid whispered prayer she struck the knife deep into his chest. His flesh, vampire flesh, parted differently than mortal flesh, the blade cleaved easily through his skin, his meat, his bones, and seeking purchase in his heart.

"We take the heart as a warning to the rest." She whispered, words that were spoken to her when she had taken her first life serving the House of Ophisian.

Royle died. Between the poison and the piercing of his vital organ she watched his being become a husk, leaving nothing of the mystery or elegance of the Lord of the Night.

She carved the heart from his chest and left it beside his body, a thing of no use to anyone now and when they would find his body they would know that this was an act of defiance, it was the execution of a traitor.

She sat for some time over the spoils of her prey, she struggled to feel anything: triumph, satisfaction…pleasure. With limbs that felt like lead she rose to her feet and left the room with Royle's corpse inside.

She walked fast down the winding halls, the dim light helped her conceal the blood that covered her clothes, though all would smell it on her.

"You, girl." She paused in her step, the voice pinning her to the spot. Slowly she turned, a grim set to her jaw as Evelyn Halisaret approached her. "Where is Maegester Royle?"

Luna's eyes threw back the light, giving nothing but the impression of an animal.

"Why are you covered in blood?" Evelyn whispered.

"Do you remember me, Evelyn Halisaret?" She asked.

"You're Royle's bitch." She hissed.

Luna smiled perversely. "I'm not a bitch though there is animal still left in me; no amount of the Blood could wash that away."

"What are you talking about?"

"Do you remember Tisiphone Drache?"

Her eyes flared at the sound of the name. "Drache?"

Luna nodded. "You murdered her." She said.

Evelyn shrugged as if the matter meant little enough to her. "She deserved to die."

"As you deserve to die." Luna's voice trembled as tears well in her eyes.

"Ah, so you're Lambert's little cub?" She smiled, grotesque and sharp.

Luna took the knife edged in poison from her waist and held it up to Evelyn's cheek, the sharp point by her eye. The motion had been so sharp, Evelyn had not been ready for it and now with the metal pressed to her she was cool and calm.

"You deserve to die as he died and you will in time." Luna whispered and drew the blade against her skin and it parted in a shallow cut but that's all it would take. Time would kill Evelyn Haliseret.

"What have you done?" Evelyn asked despite the sharpness of the knife cutting into the flesh of her cheek.

Luna drew back, sheathing the knife. "Maegester Royle is in his chambers." She said in a bland official tone. "He would be most pleased of your company."

Evelyn's brows drew together, she had no comprehension of what was happening. "You will pay for this, you mad bitch." She said softly and touched her bleeding cheek. She turned on her heels and strode toward Royle's chambers.

Luna turned and ran. She knew she was heading home though she moved slowly when she was greeted by the night air and silver trickle of moonlight upon her face. She could not comprehend all that she had done and yet it was what she had wanted. Years upon years had led to the moment, that very moment and now there was nothing.

Hollow.

She reached her home and the first thing she did was peel off her gloves and lay them down on her dining table, she looked down at her fingers and though there was no blood she couldn't help but feel the tackiness of it there.

She undressed, shedding one blood soaked layer at a time and stepped under the shower and began to scrub the night's events from her body, the water was boiling hot and her skin turned lobster red, blistering beneath the extreme heat. No matter, it would heal.

She put on a pair of shorts and chiffon blouse as if it were any other night, as if she were an ordinary woman curling foetal on the couch seeking surrender in sleep, she lay a long time waiting for it but it never came.

She could sense the intruder as they slipped in through the back window; she could hear the heavy breathing, she could hear the rhythm of their heart and the steady thrum of their fear. She knew then it was not the Night coming to seek justice but something else.

The Night would seek its revenge in time.

* * *

Miss S


	15. Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fourteen

* * *

"You played their game and became a vampire because you wanted a fighting chance to kill Royle and Halisaret." Madelyn realised.

Luna nodded. She had waited and found the method to take Royle's life, she had come to him at a time where no one would be there to intervene, she had ingratiated herself enough that the vampires would trust her with their Lord's life. No one would suspect her of foul play, only Evelyn Halisaret who to would succumb to the poison in the fullness of time.

"Gerard was right, I held nothing but vengeance in my heart and Evelyn Halisaret and Everard Royle were the faces I saw every night until I took their lives."

"And now, what do you feel?"

"I…I can't feel anything now." She confessed.

Madelyn chucked the knife across the room. "Killing you won't bring them back." She acknowledged dully. "Why did you let me live, if you knew what it would do to me?"

She had touched upon it before in the course of her tale, hadn't she tried to protect something of herself, had Madelyn not represented the innocence of her own childhood.

"Fool." Luna hissed and overpowered Madelyn easily until it was she who was straddling the fragile human body. She thrust her face close, until their breaths mingled and there was nothing but the gold-green and grey-lavender.

"Do it." Madelyn hissed, her features turning red with fury and defiance. "You should have done it before."

Luna extended a mental tendril that impacted Madelyn's mind like a psychic punch and the girl fell unconscious. "I could never kill you." Luna said softly stroking hair from the girl's face and running fingertips against her jaw. "Not then or now. You are the last part of me that is good and I need you to live the life I never could."

She left Madelyn Ingram prone on the floor caught between sleep and magic.

* * *

On the street, cold air surrounded her like a coat but it couldn't match the cold inside. She didn't feel the rough ground beneath her bare feet, in shorts and chiffon blouse she was vulnerable, feeling lost and resigned to the fate that would hunt her until her end.

"Luna?" She paused in step, it was both sweet relief and dreadful grief to hear Gerard Lambert's voice. He stepped close staring down at her bowed head, she could not bring herself to meet his eyes. "Why did you do it?"

"Do you have to ask?" She asked with a sardonic smile and unsettling laugh under her breath.

"They'll kill you for this."

Of course they would and she was ready; she moved quickly, going toward him then standing before him, her fingers twining with his, her face angled upward, her mouth finding his and her tongue sliding between his lips in a passionate kiss. It would be her first real kiss and her last. "I'm already dead." She whispered against his lips.

"We can run."

Her heart leapt, how pleasant a thought but she shook her head, no. "They'll come for me."

He took hold of her, holding her close, arms enfolding her slender femininity; he allowed himself to feel the fullness of his emotion for her and it startled him.

"You need to go." She whispered.

When he drew back to look into her face he saw tears, there was true vulnerability in her expression he hadn't seen the like in her features since she was a young child.

"Please."

"Luna-" She pushed him hard so that he stumbled; her hand mutated into a beastly claw, sharp nails black and dangerous.

"Don't do this." He pleaded.

"They're coming." She said through her teeth and reached out as if to scratch him but he caught her wrist, squeezing so tight he could have snapped the bone.

A light appeared behind him, twin headlights and a car squealing to a stop Luna's eyes grew wide and she screamed inarticulately mimicking beastly madness, they wouldn't know the difference, they wouldn't know she was the consummate actress.

"Help him." A familiar voice barked from behind Gerard's shoulder.

Shadows flew toward her, pushing passed Gerard to go toward her.

"Don't do this." Gerard's voice almost lost in the bustle.

_Goodbye, my friend_. She pushed the thought into his mind before she was brought to her knees by the male and female vampire.

Magistrate Benedict patted Gerard hard on the back, to both acknowledge and sympathise with his injury. The Magistrate stood forward, his features devoid of any tender feeling as he spoke. "Luna Morrell you are hereby charged with murder, conspiracy and treason."

* * *

The End

* * *

Miss S


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